Something More Intimate
by Val-Creative
Summary: Dating usually brings up personal stuff Yuri dreads to let anyone know. It's probably why he avoided it all together. Without trying, Otabek -sees- Yuri for who he is. He accepts what Yuri tells him without question or taunting. /Canon AU. DFAB!Yuri. Otayuri. Yurabek. Oneshot.


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Yuri doesn't think much of Venice. However, it's an opportunity to hang out with his best friend.

Who also happens to be his boyfriend.

Having a boyfriend in general feels like an adventure. Something that's different than gala exhibitions at the senior level of his career, or being able to own an apartment under only his name.

Dating usually brings up personal stuff Yuri dreads to let anyone know.

It's probably why he avoided it all together. Being a world-famous, professional skater, under countless hours of training and performances eating up his time, it stacked up a pretty good excuse.

Otabek never looks at him in a way that made him uncomfortable, as friends or while dating; he doesn't call Yuri any feminine pronouns or reminds Yuri about his gender dysphoria. Without trying, Otabek _sees_ Yuri for who he is. He accepts what Yuri tells him without question or taunting.

Yuri has… never really had that.

Everyone insists on the " _fairy_ " exterior, when Yuri grows out his honey-blond hair and plaits its sides. They neglect the " _soldier_ " in his soul Otabek points out.

After riding around aimlessly, they park off on a stone-cobble alleyway, between two fences. Otabek's huge, gleaming motorcycle still running between Yuri's thighs. He huffs, holding Otabek's smudged-up mobile between his hands. Most of it is Yuri's fingerprints since the other man avoids SMS like a plague.

"How the _HELL_ do you have 10 thousand followers and only two posts?" Yuri asks, letting out a small, doubting laugh. "These aren't not even _yours_. This is this year's and last year's competition schedules."

Otabek grunts out noncommittally, his arms winding slowly to Yuri's waist.

Yuri lowers the mobile, resting his head back against Otabek's shoulder and peering over to him. There's a scent of ocean salt and bitterness like chimney smoke nearby, irritating Yuri's nostrils. "Is this boring you…?"

"No."

"Then what is it?" Yuri asks, raising his eyebrows a little. It's more mocking than concern, and Otabek tightens his arms, urging the other man closer to him. Not that Yuri is complaining. At all.

They're both still reluctant about PDA… but if it's a lone alleyway without traffic…

"I've been thinking… about us," Otabek whispers. There's an emotion like uncertainty washing over his features. Yuri's lips twitches downwards. "If you would be comfortable trying something more intimate."

Wait, _what_?

A burst of eagerness fills Yuri's chest.

" _Finally!_ " he crows out, practically turning around on the motorcycle seat. Otabek's bigger and muscular arms circling him prevent Yuri from fully turning. "Do you know how _long_ I've been waiting for you to let me give you a blowjob? We've been dating two years, and I couldn't get you to _kiss me_ until—"

"I'm not talking about for me," Otabek interrupts, staring over him heedfully. His hands smooth over Yuri's thin sides, gripping on through black, fleecy fabric.

Yuri hesitates.

Then… what does he…?

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Heat floods out the misplaced eagerness in Yuri's chest. "You wanna know if it's okay to touch me… instead?"

The nod confirms it and he sucks in a deep, steadying breath.

 _Nobody_ has ever…

"If it's you… yeah _,_ I want that," Yuri says, his voice low and hoarse. He tries to appear as sincere as possible, because fuck, fuck _yes_ , he wants that. Otabek's lips are as chapped as his, but a kiss is a kiss. Otabek used to kiss him too gently, his touches rigid on Yuri's skin and lacking confidence.

Yuri shifts one of Otabek's hands to his leg. "Right now," he breathes out, gauging the reaction of Otabek's dark eyes widening. "If you're gonna do it, then do it."

"Are you sure?"

" _Beka_ …"

The exaggerated, frustrated look allows Otabek's mouth to loosen into a smile.

As much as Yuri is grateful for Otabek's need for his consent, he wants this so badly. On the goddamn huge motorcycle, in the middle of a public alleyway in Venice, that's just _fine_ as long as Otabek touches him.

Hands move to unbutton Yuri's cheetah-print jeans, Otabek's tan palms going flat against Yuri's abdomen. They stroke up under his hoodie, wrinkling it to his pale, heaving ribs, gradually traveling back down to rest on Yuri's hips. The motion repeats, over and over, until Yuri's stomach muscles relax completely.

"Trying to put me to sleep?" he mumbles, leaning up heavily against Otabek. The bike's engine purrs and vibrates underneath him, almost lulling Yuri into a state of drowsiness. Otabek's wet lips press to his ear.

" _Yura_ …"

Otabek's softened voice awakens all of the blood and life in Yuri's veins. It feels like a new bundle of warmth inside of him, shooting from his belly to in-between his thighs, thudding along with Yuri's heartbeat.

Fingers poke under the elastic band of Yuri's raspberry-red briefs, grazing over soft, coarse pubic hair. Yuri groans out impatiently, attempting to spread open his legs a little.

"You're warm…"

"I'll be _warmer_ if you would quit treating me like glass," Yuri retorts, but without any malice behind it. His lower lip feels tender, from both kissing and biting down, chewing his own skin raw, reddened.

It feels like a loss of control, but without the anxiety, without feeling afraid. Otabek's with him, constantly touching, _grounding_ him in the escalating and pleasurable moment. Yuri squirms in anticipation, inhaling against his boyfriend's cheek when the slow exploration continues.

Oh fucking, just— _yes_.

As soon as there's a finger on the vulva, rubbing between his outer lips, Yuri gasps out noisily, hips bucking into Otabek's hand. His head tilting backwards. He's not even paying attention to volume at this point, caught in the thrill, in the buildup of a orgasm that is still too far from meeting.

But _hell_ , Otabek's fingers are getting Yuri wetter than any other time he's tried experimenting on himself.

"Faster," Yuri nearly moans this. One of his hands clasp over Otabek's against his thighs, urging Otabek's fingers into a quick and clumsy pace. A thumb moving on the ridge of his sensitive clit.

Yuri lifts his knee, planting his steel-toed boot against the motorcycle's hand-bar, giving him the leverage to move his hips. Otabek chuckles against his neck, leaving a messy kiss, his empty hand settling to Yuri's exposed abs. "You're a brat," he mutters, listening for Yuri's trembling laugh.

" _Shut up_ …"

It's easy enough to get back into rhythm. Alternating between rubbing frantically and directly on Yuri's clit and then slowing the pace, touching around the labia and gently pinching down.

Yuri grinds down on Otabek's fingers, moaning when one of them presses in. He's soaking wet against Otabek's entire hand. His thighs bracket Otabek's wrist, clenching up and keeping him firmly in place.

It's not a good idea to scream out anything, but in Yuri's head, it repeats: _Don't stop don't stopdontstop_ —

His own name gasps out of Otabek's lips, elevated with arousal. That's what helps send him over, writhing and quivering as Yuri comes intensely, groaning to Otabek's darkly stubbled chin.

" _Shit_ ," he murmurs, eyes closing. Yuri nudges back into Otabek's hand cupping his cheek. " _Best idea_ …"

Yuri's lips stretch into a slow grin when their mouths slot together, kissing slow and long. "We need to get back, Yura," Otabek reminds him patiently, his fingers removing from Yuri's underwear and buttoning his jeans back up. "Viktor Nikiforov and his husband arranged dinner for us across the hotel."

A cranky, rumbling noise.

"Fine," Yuri says, straightening up and running a hand through his long hair. He aims another smiling look over his shoulder when Otabek hands him the cheetah-print helmet. "Offer for a blowjob still stands…"

His boyfriend snorts lightly, buckling his own plain, black helmet.

"Later," Otabek tells him, less dismissive and more amused.

Yuri snorts back.

 _Later?_

It's definitely happening.

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* * *

 _A VERY HAPPY YOI WEDNESDAY TO EVERYONE! I hope you're ready for some new stuff again! :) It's also still YOI Rarepair Week and naturally, I had to do a fic for these two. I saw " **Otabek/DFAB!Yuri + NSFW, fingering** " and requesting Yuri's gender identity as nonbinary but using he/him pronouns. Which is completely legitimate for someone identifying as nonbinary and I know a ton of people who either use "he/him" or "she/her" or other variations as pronouns instead of just"they/them"! And also "DFAB" = "Designated Female At Birth" and that's actually my identity, so I was tempted! I'm also nonbinary, but I use they/them. _

_Anywhoo, the prompt off the Yuri On Ice Kink Meme caught my eye and I've been wanting to try it out! Please leave comments/thoughts if you've got 'em! ILY!_


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